Conversations in Allegro
by Blood-Sucker-1428
Summary: AU: Mycroft is the pianist in an orchestra. The conductor is running late so the orchestra rehearses without him. Apparently the brunette first clarinet who is always on her phone has a problem with the way Mycroft plays - how annoying. Mythea one-shot prompt given to me over Tumblr.


**Author's Note:** **Hi guys! I was begging for ideas on Tumblr and delta2375 (aka Wheezzy8 as a reviewer here) suggested this one. Considering I have some music background it was one I could most definitely do. I think it turned out well for an AU and I would love to hear what you all thought of it! I just love writing Mythea stuff. So please, read, review, and enjoy!**

 _Prompt: __An AU one-shot where Anthea and Mycroft are musicians in a philharmonic orchestra? Anthea is the principal clarinettist and Mycroft is the pianist. During the rehearsals, they have a row, for it only to be broken up by the conductor. They later reconcile._

 **Disclaimer:** **Clearly I don't own Sherlock. The show is the baby of Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss, while Sherlock Holmes itself is the creation of Arthur Conan Doyle.**

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 **Conversations in Allegro – By Blood-Sucker-1428**

The conductor was, well, late. Late for his own scheduled rehearsal and it had led to utter chaos. You think a room full of seasoned musicians and university graduates could hold it together for half an hour but apparently, like school children, they fell apart. Every single member of the orchestra was here except the conductor. The flutes were testing the high part of their range (much to the chagrin of everyone's hearing), the girls on the clarinets where nattering amongst each other like birds, one or two of the trumpet players were amusing themselves by trying to play the French Horns, and one of the double bass players, god forbid, had taken out his electric bass and was plying the bass line for some ridiculous rock song. Meanwhile, Mycroft sat at the piano, tapping his fingers anxiously on the wooden cover over the keys absolutely hating the fact that he felt like he was back in high school when it would take the music teacher half of band practice just to get the other kids to listen again. This was ridiculous – he could be doing something else right now instead wasting his time listening to these morons.

The first violinist, an aging man who was greying fiercely and now only had a few strands of black in his moustache – and admittedly not as good a player as Mycroft's brother, Sherlock was, came waltzing in from outside the rehearsal room, phone and bow in hand. He walked up to the conductor's podium and cleared his throat. No one stopped what they were doing and Mycroft rolled his blue eyes. The fools.

"Excuse me, everyone." The older gentleman spoke, tapping on the podium with his bow. A few people stopped talking, one of the piccolo players, the percussionists and the first clarinet player – the girl with the brown curls who picked up her phone every chance she got. "Can I have everyone's attention?" He tried again. Mycroft sighed as he survey the room, he noted the first clarinet frown as she too looked around.

"Quiet!" She didn't yell, the correct term would be that the first clarinet player had stood up and projected her voice across the room. A ripple effect was caused, the people closest to her quieted down and went around until everyone was facing the girl in the black dress with the fierce dark eyes. "Jacob is trying to say something." She spoke in a gentler tone as she turned to the violinist with a smile and sat down.

"Thank you, Miss James." The man beamed a rather large and yellow toothed grin at the young woman. "Yes, onto business. I just got off the phone with the conductor. He is having car trouble and would like us to start without him." A murmur spread out across the room and Mycroft found himself rolling his eyes once again. Do people ever grow up or were they perpetually children who had to talk about every single piece of new information without digesting it and getting all the facts first? This is why rumours are so rampant in society. "We shall start from the beginning of our current repertoire and work our way through. Sine we don't have a conductor to watch this would be a perfect time to study the sheet music." Mycroft hadn't even glanced at his sheet music in months, didn't even bring it to rehearsals anymore. The violinist moved into his place in the string section. "We'll go through each piece twice and then move on, could the timpani count us in?"

Rehearsals, thank God, began at that moment without another word from the musicians. One thing to be said besides the fact that these people were still small children who acted like farmyard animals was that the conductor was a good sheepdog and had herded the musicians into line early on. Once you got started, that was the only focus. The problem, however, arose when once they had completed the first piece in its entirety once the first clarinet – the girl with the brown curls – had stood up and asked for a moment's break. The group automatically erupted into conversation and Mycroft had sighed at the delay. Really, he despised people. He was surprised to see the clarinet player making her way over to his piano, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. Mycroft watched her carefully as she approached, her demeanour was calm but she was using it to mask an annoyance. Couldn't possibly be as annoying as her stopping the rehearsal had been to him.

"Hello." She smiled at Mycroft. Mycroft quirked an eyebrow and looked her up and down with his steel eyes.

"Can I help you?" Mycroft sighed. "I would much rather actually be playing music right now and since you're the one who interrupted us I'd like you to be quick." This earned him furrowed eyebrows from the girl but also a crooked half smile.

"Well, this is about practice." The girl said. "You were playing the piece too fast, it was causing everyone else to speed up in return." Mycroft sniffed and shook his head.

"My dear, the piece is Andante, I was playing Andante." The brunette woman raised her own eyebrow.

"Yeah, I _know_ it's traditionally andante, but the composer has been making us play it Adagio."

"Yes, well, the composer is wrong." Mycroft give the girl a belittling smile before turning back to the piano.

"Hey, excuse me." The girl stepped back into Mycroft's line of sight. "You can't just say someone's wrong. What's a couple of BPM?" Mycroft turned to face the girl once more, put off by her perseverance.

"It's not 'a couple' of beats per minute, dear. Adagio is at ease while Andante is walking pace. You don't take a film a play it one and a half times it's speed, do you? I would hope you know that." The girl looked Mycroft up and down.

"Hey, don't talk to me like I'm an idiot, who do you think you are?" Mycroft actually laughed at this comment.

"The only person who isn't an idiot in this entire room." This time the girl laughed, raising her hands in a defeatist manner and shaking her head.

"I knew you were up yourself but that was ridiculous." She folded her arms across her chest. "Look, just play the piece at the proper time or-"

"Or what?" Mycroft scoffed. " _You'll_ quit? God forbid! Where will we find another mediocre clarinet player? It's not like multiple clarinet players are graduating from university every year and itching to audition for an orchestra." The girl laughed again.

"Listen to you!" She rose her voice. Mycroft was well aware of the fact that the entire room had been listening for the last couple of exchanges. "You act all high and mighty because it takes you like two seconds to learn a piece. Yet you've been here so much longer than I have and I bet you don't know anyone's names." Mycroft sniffed.

"Why would I even bother to learn their names?" He was also aware that the conductor had entered the room and was watching the two interact, briefcase underarm, standing at the door. "I'm not here to make _friends_." He spat the word.

"Because forging relationships with people creates stronger bonds and allows you to better understand how each other play, _dickhead._ " The conductor was coming closer now. Mycroft laughed.

"Listen to you, you actually believe that." Mycroft shook his head. "Dear girl, you've listened to too many motivational speakers, you have no idea." The first clarinet took a step closer, pointing a finger at Mycroft.

"The next time you call me 'dear' I'll-"

"Hey, hey, guys!" The conductor pushed himself in between the pianist and the first clarinet. "I don't know what got you so riled up but we've got a schedule to follow!" The girl was looking at the floor while Mycroft observed the conductor with a bored expression painted on his long features. "Now, you go sit down, and you get ready to play."

"Sorry, Tim." The girl sighed. "Talk to you later, _Mycroft_." The girl shot daggers at him one more time. Mycroft clicked his tongue and shook his head. The girl thought she was proving a point by saying his name? All she was doing was proving that she was wasting valuable space in her brain that could be used on more important information than the name of the pianist in you orchestra who never talks to anyone. Really, who did she think she was? And how dare she have the gall to come up to him like that? Actually, it was rather impressive to see a woman so confident to just come up and tell a rather imposing – as he's been called before – man what was on her mind. Very brave of her, and perhaps a little bit interesting. Still idiotic, however.

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After rehearsals while everyone was packing up their instruments and emptying their spit valves, Mycroft was on his way out. Considering the piano was the property of the building, Mycroft always took the time everyone else had to pack up in order to escape before someone could stop him for the idle chitchat. He'd heard the brass section say it had been an extra hour talking in the carpark between themselves before they'd all left one rehearsal. The idea of all that small talk made Mycroft's skin crawl. Mycroft had reached the double doors, having just placed his hands upon them when he was stopped.

"Hey, wait." He recognised the voice of the clarinet player. Mycroft shut his eyes and took a deep breath before he turned around. The girl jogged to catch up with him, clutching to her clarinet case, heels clicking on the floor. She stopped and looked at the floor, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. "Look, I wanted to say sorry for raising my voice at you." She looked up and eyed him carefully. "Not for the points I made," She pointed her index finger at him. "Those were justified. Just for raising my voice at you. I've noticed you're a little social awkward, I shouldn't have gotten offended so easily." Mycroft scoffed.

"I wouldn't call myself awkward." He pouted. The girl smiled, her nose crinkling as she did.

"I would." She laughed.

"Socially disinterested, perhaps." Mycroft mumbled.

"Yeah, ok. Socially disinterred." Her smile grew slightly. Mycroft sighed.

"While I stick to my convictions that the piece should be played at a faster tempo, I can see the validity of your points." The girl quirked an eyebrow as she was most likely translating what Mycroft had just said into something that made sense to her. She tilted her head to the side.

"On which part?" She mused. "Following directions or learning more about the other members?" Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"Taking the conductor's wishes into consideration." The girl laughed and shook her head.

"How about you try learning a couple of names?" Mycroft looked the girl up and down. The defiant sparkle in her eye, the sly smile, her confidence. She was daring, and it was interesting, interesting enough to tolerate. He sighed and looked to the side.

"Very well, why don't we start with yours?" Mycroft asked. The girl tilted her head and bit her lips, thinking as she now looked him over.

"Um, Anthea." She hummed. The lie was written all over her face, from her eyes to her smile.

"No it's not." Mycroft stated.

"No." She nodded. "Just trying to prove a point."

"What? That I'm entirely ignorant to everyone in this room?" He tilted his head.

"No, that you're as smart as you think you are." She bit her lip again, this time smiling as she did so. Mycroft rolled his eyes and turned to leave. He paused, holding the door open for this 'Anthea' to walk through.

"You see, this is why I don't bother with people." He sighed. She walked through, mumbling a shy 'thank you' as she did, and giggled at his comment.

"We're not all that bad." She argued. "Some of us are easier to digest than others." Mycroft raised his eyebrows at her.

"Oh, is that a fact?" He asked. Anthea nodded. "Care to prove it to me?"

"Sure." Once again she tucked her hair behind her ear – clearly a nervous gesture. "We're you going to the Mendelssohn concert next month that the conductor was talking about?"

"I wasn't planning to." Mycroft hummed. "Really, it's always the same. Violin Concerto in E minor steals the show and no one remembers the rest of the evening."

"Well you're going now." Anthea said, sidestepping closer to Mycroft. "I'll gladly accompany you for the sake of restoring your faith in the human race."

"Is that so?" Mycroft humoured the girl. "And who exactly was going to buy these high market tickets?"

"Who indeed, Mr. Three piece suit?" She joked, looking Mycroft up and down with an exaggeration for effect. She gave him one last smile as they reached the carpark before heading off in her own direction for her car. "See you next week." She called out.

See you next week, indeed. That girl had courage, and that was admirable.

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 **Author's Note:** **What do you think? Okay? Let me know! This may have been my first AU ever that wasn't a role play I was in for Rocky Horror between 5 and 9 years ago…**

 **Please guys feel free to go over to my Tumblr and give me prompt idea, we need to fill this site up with more Mythea. Even if you have an idea of "A First Time for Everything", the chances are I have it in my list for that fic already but I love hearing ideas.**


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